


and the world decides to sleep safe tonight

by elizaham8957



Series: Twelve Days of Stydia Christmas 2017 [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Future, Post Series, ah well, holiday fluff, if you can't get cliche at christmas then when can you?, married stydia, this is maybe the most cliche thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/pseuds/elizaham8957
Summary: “You’re really lucky I love you,” his wife said, walking into their living room in said Star Wars pajamas, holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Stiles took one from her as she sat next to him on the couch, tucking her feet up under her.“Come on,” Stiles responded. “These pajamas are awesome.” Lydia just shook her head, smiling in that subtle, affectionate way that still, after ten years, made his heart flutter a little.They were awesome, for the record. They had Darth Vader on them and everything.





	and the world decides to sleep safe tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Christmas Eve, everyone! Enjoy maybe the fluffiest, most cliche thing I have ever written and will ever write. Like, this is ridiculously fluffy. I would apologize, but I feel like this should be expected from me at this point. 
> 
> Title is from Gold and Green by Sugarland. I'm stilesssolo on tumblr and twitter if you ever want to chat! 
> 
> Happy holidays, and enjoy!!

The older he got, the more and more Stiles loved Christmas. 

It didn’t make sense, really. Christmas was supposed to be something kids loved more than anything; a holiday that should have lost some of its charm the more he celebrated it. And Stiles  _ had  _ loved Christmas when he was little— it had been his favorite holiday for a while. He still remembered early Christmas mornings, racing into his parents’ room to wake them as soon as the clock read 6 a.m., and the three of them sitting around the tree, exchanging gifts in matching holiday pajamas. And then his mother had died, and celebrating the holiday had never quite been the same. He and his dad could feel her absence more sharply than ever at that time of the year, ghosts of memories reminding him of everything they’d lost. Sometimes now, more than twenty years later, he could still hear the faint tune of her humming along to Christmas carols, could see her warm smile illuminated by the lights of the tree. After she was gone, celebrating Christmas had become more painful than joyful. 

Those first few years had been tough. For most of middle school, Stiles couldn’t see a wreath or hear the tune of Winter Wonderland without the sharp, hollow pain of her absence intensifying. There had been a time where he’d never wanted to celebrate Christmas again. But Scott had always been there, dinners with him and Melissa becoming their new tradition. And then suddenly he had a  _ pack,  _ a  _ family,  _ and while it wasn’t anything like what Christmas had been like with his mom, Stiles started to learn to love the holiday again, in different ways. Through ugly sweater parties at Scott’s house, Christmas movie marathons in Lydia’s basement, Secret Santas for the whole pack— Christmas had slowly began to gain a place in Stiles’s heart again. It became a way to remember his mom instead of a reason to forget her. 

By the time Melissa and his dad had gotten married, the ache of missing his mom was more of a faint memory. Not that he didn’t miss her. He would always miss her, always have that part of him that remembered her humming Christmas carols as she decorated the tree with him, lifting him up in her arms so that he could hang his Star Wars ornaments from the highest branches. But Christmas had become something new for them now. And every year, Stiles was more and more excited for their enormous family dinner at his parents’ house, seeing everyone from the pack, exchanging gifts and creating their own Christmas memories.

Not to mention the fact that Lydia had  _ finally  _ caved and let him buy them matching Star Wars Christmas pajamas. 

“You’re really lucky I love you,” his wife said, walking into their living room in said Star Wars pajamas, holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Stiles took one from her as she sat next to him on the couch, tucking her feet up under her. 

“Come on,” Stiles responded. “These pajamas are  _ awesome.”  _ Lydia just shook her head, smiling in that subtle, affectionate way that still, after ten years, made his heart flutter a little. 

They  _ were  _ awesome, for the record. They had Darth Vader on them and everything. 

“Drink your hot cocoa,” Lydia said, her eyes shining. She inched closed to him on the couch, leaning back against the cushions and arranging her knees so they were almost in his lap. Obliging, Stiles took a sip, sighing in contentment when he tasted just how many marshmallows she’d put in. Finn lifted his head at the noise, surveying his humans from his dog bed in front of the fireplace. 

“So,” Lydia said, taking a small sip of her own drink. “Tomorrow. What’s the plan?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. I talked to my dad. He said we’re welcome any time. We’re eating around one, probably.” Lydia nodded. “It seems like everyone’s getting there around noon. Scott said he and Kira might be a little later, because they have to take the kids to see her parents in the morning too. Not to mention wrangle the kids.” 

“Is everyone coming again this year?” Lydia asked, putting her mug down on the coffee table. Stiles nodded. 

“Yeah, I think so. Derek and Braeden are coming down with the girls, and Malia’s coming with them. Scott and Kira will be there, obviously, and Isaac and Argent just flew in today. Mason and Corey will probably show up for dessert, and Liam said they’ll be there for dinner too. Why?” he asked, looking at Lydia quizzically. 

She shrugged noncommittally, twisting her wedding ring absentmindedly on her finger. “Just wondering,” she said, shrugging. “I always like seeing everyone.” 

Stiles grinned at her, placing his empty mug next to hers on the coffee table. “C’mere,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms and tugging her onto his lap. Lydia laughed, looping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. “I love you,” he told her, kissing the tip of her nose, trying not to laugh at the face she made in response. “And you look adorable in your Star Wars pajamas.”

Lydia rolled her eyes at that, shaking her head in disbelief. She  _ did  _ look adorable, though, her brows scrunched up, long curls tumbling down her back. 

“I will admit,” she said, shooting him a look. “These pajamas  _ are  _ pretty comfortable.” 

“Ha!” Stiles said, his arms flailing a little bit in his triumph. “You _do_ like them!”

She just shook her head at him, shooting him that grin that she saved specially for him, before resting her head on his shoulder again. “I can’t believe it took me more than  _ ten years  _ to convince you to let me buy us matching Star Wars pajamas,” he said. 

“I can,” Lydia responded, smirking. “Twelve, to be exact. I’m pretty sure this is our twelfth Christmas together.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Stiles said. “But, we’ve been  _ married  _ for five Christmases now.” 

“Yes, we have,” Lydia said, sitting back, her hand still resting on his thigh. “Which reminds me. I have a special Christmas present for you.” 

“But Christmas is tomorrow,” Stiles said as she stood from the couch, walking over to the tree and sifting through the presents already piled underneath. Finn padded over to her, nudging his head into her hand, and she smiled as she scratched his ears. She turned around holding a little box, wrapped in red paper with a pretty gold bow tied around it. 

“You get this one tonight,” she insisted, sitting back down on the couch and offering him the little box. He looked at her, puzzled as to why she was doing this. They never gave each other presents on Christmas eve. 

“Is this a special present because we’ve been married for five Christmases now?” Stiles asked, glancing at Lydia as he untied the bow. “Because, uh, I totally did not get you something in honor of that milestone.” 

“No,” Lydia said, shaking her head, her smile secretive. “This is an extra present.” 

Still genuinely confused, Stiles ripped the paper off, revealing a white box. It was small, maybe the width of his palm, only an inch or two deep. “What is this?” he asked his wife again, looking up just in time to see her roll her eyes affectionately. 

“Just open it, Stiles,” she said as Finn walked over to them, hopping up on the couch and curling up next to Lydia’s feet. 

Gingerly, Stiles took the lid off the box, moving the tissue paper away to reveal a Christmas ornament. His brow furrowing in confusion, he plucked the ornament from the box, holding it up in front of him. 

“I thought I already hit the limit on how many Star Wars ornaments I can have on the tree,” Stiles said, confused, still staring at the ornament. It was cute, but it was an… interesting choice. It was a picture of baby Luke on Tatooine from the end of  _ Revenge of the Sith,  _  the words “a new hope” spelled out in cursive letters above the frame. There was a bow tied right where the string looped onto the ornament, patterned with lightsabers. 

“I thought this one was fitting,” Lydia said, that secretive smile still on her face. Stiles glanced at her, still a little bewildered. She just gave him a look, and he could practically  _ hear  _ her say  _ figure it out.  _

Gingerly, Stiles turned over the ornament, examining the back side, realizing that the picture of baby Luke was just a placeholder in the frame. Slowly, he slipped the image out, revealing the backing of the frame. His heart sped up, realization beginning to dawn on him at the words written there in Lydia’s loopy handwriting.  

_ Baby’s First Christmas. 2025.  _

“2025,” he said, mind and heart racing. “That’s next year.” He looked up, meeting his wife’s gaze, his own eyes wide. “Oh my god, Lydia, are you—” 

She nodded, pressing her lips together in that smile she saved just for when she was looking at him. “Yeah,” she said, voice soft, and Stiles could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Her smile grew, her eyes shining. “I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, unable to completely process, his grin growing wider and wider. “That’s— oh my god. You’re serious?” he checked, because his heart was still in overdrive and his mind was having a little trouble processing this news. He was pretty sure he could feel tears in his eyes, looking at Lydia right now.

Lydia laughed, nodding her head, her smile radiant. “I’m serious,” she told him, inching closer to him on the couch. “I found out a couple days ago.” 

“Holy shit,” Stiles said, cupping her face with one hand, his fingers still sort of trembling. “Oh my god, I’m going to be a dad. We’re going to be  _ parents.”  _

“Mhm,” she hummed, and there were tears in her eyes too as Stiles pulled her into him, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her slowly, sweetly. They pulled away, foreheads still pressed together, and Stiles slid his hand down to Lydia’s stomach, his palm resting there. 

“I’m not showing yet,” Lydia whispered, her smile wide. “I’m only four weeks.” 

“I know, but still,” Stiles said, leaning in to kiss her again. “I just—” he shook his head, unsure how to say what he was thinking. His whole world had shifted in the blink of an eye. Next Christmas, there would be three of them— him, Lydia, and a little, tiny human that was half her and half him and completely  _ perfect.  _

“I know,” Lydia said, smiling at him, telling him he didn’t need to finish his sentence, because she got it. She understood exactly what he was thinking without him ever having to say anything, because she understood him better than anyone else did. 

“We’re having a  _ baby,”  _ Stiles said again, his heart hammering in his chest, overwhelmed by how much joy he felt. His grin was so wide it almost hurt, and looking at Lydia, her smile equal to his, Stiles thought his heart might burst. He’d never thought it would be possible to love something more than he loved Lydia, but now, picturing a little kid with her eyes and his moles, and her smarts and his sarcasm… he could already tell that he was going to love this baby more than anything. He already sort of did. 

“I love you,” he told Lydia again, pulling her into his arms and burying his nose in her hair, breathing her in. 

“I love you too,” she murmured into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas,” Stiles responded, thinking that this was the best Christmas he could remember. 


End file.
